Gatherings/Battles
Hence the name, Battle of Fury, you can only imagine that we'll have a couple of battles. We will not start one, however, until we have at least 15 active members. We need enough cats in the Clans that battle and enough active members to have a continuous battle instead of one that pauses for a day then everyone starts posting.
Weather
All Clan territories are sunny and bright. The forest is flourishing with herbs and prey, making this the easiest season of all. It would truely be a mystery if any cat died of anything like starvation or from lack of healing herbs.
Pregnancies and Kits Currently no queens are expecting kits.
Welcome to Warriors: Battle of Fury!
This site is a tribute to the Warriors Series by Erin Hunter. This site is a Role Play site based on the adventures of cats surviving in the wild. All Credit goes to Erin Hunter. If I have forgotten anyone/anything, or there are any changes to be made, just PM me, Bristle.
Other News
Version -Newleaf- is here! Bristle (me) got bored and decided to make a new default skin - how does everyone like it? If you have any problems with viewing the skin or with the link colors and other things like that, PM me, Bristle.
New members, please try to remember that we admins have a life of our own, and please try not to ask a question if you can easily figure out the answer. x3 I know this is many of you guys' first site; so please, everyone who knows how things work on PB forums help out the newbies. Thanks in advance! -hands out cookies- (Copied from ANT Header - message written by Descry)
You are now allowed to choose if you want your character to go to StarClan or just float off into nothing-world. If you choose for them to float off, you never have to RP them again, but you also never can RP them again. Once they go in, they can't come back. Choose wisely.
Awards - 4
Clan Members
There are 9 SunClanners
There are 10 AirClanners
There are 11 MoonClanners
There are 9 IceClanners
There are 0 StarClanners
There are 2 Rogues
There are 1 Kittypets
There are 2 Loners
Bans
StarClan cats are discouraged because we need living Clan members if we're ever going to start a battle/plot.
Loners, Rogues and Kittypets are discouraged as well. Kittypets especially - I doubt they'd have any part in a battle. Loners and Rogues may be handy, but we don't want a million of them.
& Malefactor « Thread Started on Sept 22, 2006, 4:21pm »
Name >> Malefactor
Age >> 29 moons
Gender >> Male
Rank >> Loner
Physical Description >> Malefactor is of average build – moderately heavy, perhaps just taller than average. His construction lends itself more to endurance than speed, his legs shorter and his body more compact, his tail cropped back. His face is defined and recognizable, his dark greyscale tabby coat giving way to a few white stripes across the very end of his muzzle, his nose small and dark and his whiskers black fading to grey at the tips. His dark amber eyes are deep-set ovals in his face, light fur tracing thin spectacles around them before trailing back to large, pointed ears. His fur, a cross between silver tabby and agouti, is thick and wiry – parting over the silver scars of a dozen battles. Neither messy nor immaculate, it covers strong, wiry muscles long used to hard work.
Personality >> Malefactor swings from emotionless to emotional – usually quiet, not speaking unless he has to or he feels strongly about the subject, there’s a dark confidence in him like he’s got an answer for everything. He’s polite, courteous, and doesn’t start fights unless he needs to. His lack of emotion makes him unnerving to be around, sometimes, but when he gets fired up he’s even worse.
When Malefactor finds something to get angry over, you can’t help but notice – he shouts, lashes out at those around him, grows an attitude and starts fights where most people couldn’t even think of a skirmish. If he’s normally barely a pilot light, he certainly becomes a raging inferno – his eyes gleam with an internal fire, his tail lashes and every movement shows anger and malignant purpose.
History >> Malefactor’s history is in doubt.
That is, many people know his history better than he does. He awoke in the middle of nowhere, completely lacking a memory – the logical thing to do was to take cover and wait for his memory to return. Malefactor attempted this, crawling under a holly bush to shelter from the pelting rain, and sitting there, waiting for his errant memory to return.
It didn’t. Mind you, he didn’t remember anything, so he couldn’t say if there was such a thing as a lost memory returning suddenly, but sitting under a bush for the rest of his life (not that there would be much of it unless he could entice food to come to him,) waiting for his memories to come back seemed rather pointless. Besides, maybe if he found some people he would remember more – or if he saw himself in a pool of water – because, come to think of it, he couldn’t even remember what he looked like – or what his name was.
Shaking mud from his dark fur, he rose to his feet and ventured out from under the holly and into the rain, which was busily cutting visibility down. Sheets of water poured out of the sky, drenching him in moments. Muttering under his breath, the dark feline slipped further into the forest, dappled moonlight catching the raindrops and making them flash like brilliant flowers – not that he had time to notice such things as nature’s aesthetic beauty, memory-less and lost as he was. One problem with having no memory was that he had no idea where he came from – or how he’d gotten here, in the middle of the god-forsaken forest.
He wandered for a long time, eventually becoming to irritated at the rain and amount of trees that he sought shelter under another bush, hoping his memory would return if he prodded it with sleep. Perhaps he would dream.
-- no such luck. He awoke the next morning, wet through, stiff and irritable, still sans memories. The rain had fallen away during the night, but there were still puddles on the forest floor. Malefactor approached one of them, peering down at the slightly muddy water. His reflection stared back at him, surprisingly normal. He’d expected a scar-covered face, or perhaps someone of exquisite beauty – instead, he met the dark eyes of a tom about three years old, his fur grey, white and black with only a few patches of pale brown or tan.
Not impressed nor disappointed, he continued walking. The forest was dripping wet, the rain having washed away all the familiar cat smells he hoped to find.
Malefactor stumbled onto a small band of loners not long afterwards. They gave him his name, and in return he killed several of them. They parted, leaving him with a slice of memory.
He walked into the camp by mistake, surprising himself as much as he surprised the loners. Their fur went up on end and they all jumped to their feet. He, however, glared blankly at them for a while.
“You!" one of the loners shouted suddenly, rocketing forwards. The tall grey cat was so surprised he acted out of reflex – he moved aside without moving, brought his paw into contact with the other cat’s side without thinking, settled into a battle stance with only instinct to guide him. That told him something about himself – had he been some kind of soldier? A warrior of sorts?
“You know me?” he asked, soundly genuinely surprised. The cat he’d attack widened his eyes and made another lunge – the tall tom dodged easily.
“Of course I know you! You’re the most evil cat in creation.” Ow. He wasn’t so sure he liked the sound of this – if this feline knew him and wasn’t just making an honest identity mistake, (which he rather hoped,) that made him an evil b*st*rd. He didn’t like this much at all.
“Would you believe I’ve lost my memory?” He asked, and his attacker glared at him, companions still standing stock-still on the other side of the tiny clearing.
“No! I wouldn’t, at that.”
“Oh, right. Well, then. Would you mind telling me who I am, anyway?”
“You’re the most evil b*st*rd to walk the earth.”
“Yes, you said that already.”
“You honestly don’t remember?”
“Do I look like it, you son of a mouse?”
“How should I know?”
“Just answer the question already and I’ll leave you.”
“Like hellclan you will! I’ll see you dead before I let you do to terrorize the world again, Malefactor!”
“Malefactor – is that my name?”
The other cat stared for a while, then snorted.
“Not your real name – I don’t know what that was – Storm-something-or-other. No, Malefactor was what you called yourself.”
Malefactor blinked a few times. Storm-something-or-other didn’t sound as appealing a name as Malefactor. He opened his mouth to thank the loner, but that was about when his attacker and his companions jumped at him.
Malefactor hardly thought as he moved through the motions, cut, reverse, dodge. Cut, reverse, dodge. Pounce, slide, bite. Cut, reverse, dodge. Such simple motions, just gliding through them as though they were the steps to a court dance.
By the time he stopped, three of the fire cats lay dead at his feet and the other two were running of. It was rather unfortunate – he would have liked to ask more about himself, but now his only source of information was gone. Unfortunate, indeed.
Malefactor eventually managed to find a rogue tribe that took him in, not asking for his past not caring for his lack of one. He kept the name Malefactor for no reason other than that it was the only one he had other than Storm-something-or-other, which he still didn’t find an attractive name.
Over the next few months he learnt little more about his missing part – he ran into people who knew him, but most of them seemed to want him dead, and eventually he stopped asking and avoided other cats altogether, lest one of them know his past and tell him of it – he now absolutely didn’t want to know who he was, quite sure that he had been an evil b*st*rd. All he heard were stories of himself killing cats, sometimes entire clans. He discovered he’d had a mate who hated him, and a son who he’d abused frequently. Disappearing into the woods forever seemed like the best idea, leaving the rogues and the clans behind him in the vain hope they’d forget about this ‘Malefactor’ character they seemed to dislike so much.
Future >> “Find a past to fill the future, bind the world to your will, for you are a god,” – Unknown Artist.
RP Example >> … From elsewhere.
The witchwood weir – a broad band of huge pines, growing so close together that little or no sunlight could filter through the canopy. Moonlight, was a different mater – it was almost brighter here during the night, the ghostly moonlight streaming through gaps in the pine fonds, dappling the fallen needles with a silver glow. Pale nocturnal butterflies floated in the shadows, pausing now and then to land on a night-blooming flower. Glow-worms created tiny pinpricks of light in the darkness under the trees, a small colony of fireflies illuminating the underside of a fallen, overgrown trunk. A vine thick with bright red flowers, closed for the night, shifted in the breeze, leaves rustling. A pond, silver surface reflecting the moon and the silky night sky – and the reflection of a mangy old cat, fur red and patchy.
The breeze teased through the pines, lifting a few particles of sand up into the air before depositing them a little further on. The water rippled as the old cat touched it, and the reflection of the sky shivered and broke, shattering the astral body into a dozen fragments. The breeze brushed through the other side of the weir – and flattened the dark fur of a young Tamerlain priest to his side as it passed. The priest closed his silver-flecked blue eyes against the dust, his brindled pelt hiding him in the thick, soupy shadows.
Antagonist opened his eyes again as the breeze whooshed past him, carrying with it the jingle of red dead-man’s bells, the flowers tinkling. He whisked his tail, only the sudden movement setting him apart from the shadows. He lifted one dark paw slowly from the loam and took a step – then proceeded onwards through the weir, the pines creaking above him. The air was laden with the damp smell of earth, but if the priest opened his mouth a little, the smell of another cat filled his nostrils. This far from his home town of Otari Dens, he was just slightly out of his depth – but he knew the weir better than he knew most of the Forestborder.
He emerged into the clearing slowly and padded across to the pond, lowering his head to the water without worrying that the other cat would attack him. Just making the simple movement of crossing the space, Antagonist displayed a prowess that few would be able to match – one would have to be truly elite to recognize that skill and still be arrogant enough to think they could defeat him.
Cool water touched Antagonist’s tongue, the Tamerlain’s eye glaring down at his back.
Code >> Fatcat
« Last Edit: Sept 22, 2006, 5:11pm by & Malefactor »
Malefactor // And I water'd it in fears Gravity // Night and morning with my tears Forestfire // And I sunned it with my smiles Wolfrain // And with soft deceitful wiles.
[Wolf's Rain. K.J. Parker. William Blake. Nuffsaid.]
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